


Relax.

by dnwnchstr



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Winter Soldier, hydra!steve, ptsd related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5966185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnwnchstr/pseuds/dnwnchstr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're safe," Bucky promises.<br/>"Are you safe?" Steve asks.<br/>"I'm safe," he agrees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>another short thing but from my fav au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relax.

The blood on his hands isn't his own. It's sticky and warm on his skin. Mud's caked on his knees and dirt covers his face. How long has it been, he wonders. How long has it been since he's been clean? He can't remember.  
"Asset. On your feet," he hears a rough voice order above him. The blonde struggles to obey, his muscles fighting against him as he staggers into a standing position. He can't remember why he's here.  
The knife in his hand is re-sheathed into its holster at his hip. The body of the man that he'd just killed lays at his feet. Turning, he looks down at the man's face.  
Panic surges through him at the sight, brown hair and blue eyes, face stretched into an eternal expression of horror. He knows this man.. _Bucky_.

Fear is all that he is when he awakens. His breath escapes from his lungs and a cry of anguish burns its way from his throat. He surges into an upright position against the hands that hold him. It takes him several moments to grasp where he is. A dark bedroom, the only light in the room cascading from the digital clock that sits on the nightstand.  
"Steve, Steve, listen, you're okay. It was a dream," he hears as he's pulled back down into the bed. A soft hand rests against his cheek and a firm one rests against his shoulder.  
"It was just a dream, doll," the voice murmurs again. He recognizes the voice as Bucky and the second he does, he's wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in.  
Fear shivers in his bones and a whimper of fright escapes him involuntarily. Smooth lips caress his forehead, fingers brush hair and tears from his eyes.  
"You're safe," Bucky promises.  
"Are you safe?" Steve asks.  
"I'm safe," he agrees.  
It's been like this for the past two weeks. The same dream, the same routine when Steve wakes up crying at three in the morning. Bucky's gotten used to calming him down. Ever since finding him again, Steve's made progress remembering, but it's evident that the scarring will take years to even start healing.  
"I'm safe," he repeats. A kiss to his forehead and Steve relaxes. His breathing begins to slow from its panicked near-hyperventilation. He breathes in Bucky's scent as he presses his nose into the crook of his neck.  
Their murmurs fill the silence of the bedroom, Bucky's reassurances and Steve's worried questions. It doesn't take long for Steve to doze off again, Bucky's hand brushing gentle circles on his back, a promise that he's okay. A promise that Steve's going to be okay, even if he sleeps for another two or three hours.


End file.
